


How to Lose a War

by DramaDork97



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, World War II, gerita - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2018-04-01 02:03:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 15,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4001731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramaDork97/pseuds/DramaDork97
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After World War I, Germany was in ruins. Slowly he begins to regain his strength and is hungry for revenge. Ta-da! World War II! Soon Germany begins to.....feel different about a certain Italian in his life, but to be gay in this time? Never gonna happen. If Germany wins the war...nothing good will happen. But if he loses.....then what? Yes, I know I'm sucky at descriptions, I hope you like anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

_Hey guys it's me with my first ever fanfiction! So because this story take place during World War II, I have some things I need to say._

_1\. This is a WW2 fic, so just keep that in mind when reading it._

_2\. You may find some in accurate info. This could be because a) I couldn't find what I wanted so I made it up, b) it didn't fit with the story, so I tweaked it, or c) google doesn't know anything._

_3\. I'm a weird writer, and chapters=time skip. So if Italy and Germany are eating supper at the end of one chapter and suddenly on the battle field at the begining of the next, that's just the weird way I write. There are a few exceptions, but I'm giving you the heads up so you don't get confused._

_Thanks and I hope you enjoy!_

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"Italy! Wake up!" I shake the smaller country.

He lets out a happy sigh and turns over. I groan in frustration. Training was supposed to start 10 minutes ago. I warned Italy to set an alarm, yet here I was, 10 minutes behind schedule......again.

"ITALY!" I scream getting more irritated by the second.

Still, the Italian ignores me. Either he was the heaviest sleeper known to mankind or my attempts to wake him were not enough.

Time to play a little dirty.

"Hey Japan," I yell over my shoulder. "Dump out all Italy's pasta, he's not responding so I don't think he wants it."

"NOOOOOO!" Italy leaps out of bed and runs into the kitchen.

I follow him out of his room and find him hugging all of his boxed pasta and looking around panicked.

"Finally," I say. "you're up."

"FASTER ITALY! FASTER!"

"I'm going as fast as I can!" The Italian pants.

We ran-no, walked around the track. _Are you kidding me? I've seen this idiot run for food faster than this._ Italy takes small steps and pants heavily.

"I can't go any further, Germany." He says dropping to his knees.

"We just started!"

Italy moans and stretches out on the dusty track. "I'm tired though." He whimpers.

I sigh. _This. Is. My. Ally._

I kneel down beside him. "Get up."

"Why?"

"Because its training time, not nap time."

"I don't like that reason."

"You don't have to. And, if you don't, we can no longer have pasta."

"No"

"Yes"

"You're lying. "

"Are you really sure?"

Italy thinks for a moment. "No" he finally says.

"Then get up."

Suddenly the tiny Italian leaps up screaming and begins to run away faster than I've ever seen all while waving a tiny white flag.

Thought number 1: _what?_

Thought number 2: _where does he keep those flags?_

I turn around to see England peering through the bushes. He notices me looking at him and quickly bolts back into the woods. I frown. After World War I, the other countries seemed to have a difficult time trusting me. They took a great deal of my land and forced me to pay high reparations which left my county in poverty. Every time I turned around, some different Ally was watching me, making sure I didn't cause any trouble. It was infuriating. But I knew that they all wanted to avoid another fight as devastating as World War I, I knew that it would take a lot for them to join in another battle. I knew that I'd get back what was mine and more. Soon. Very soon. Well, as soon as I got this foolish Italian in somewhat fighting shape. If that day ever comes. Now to find him........

"ITALY!"

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_Comment if I should post more or not, so if you like it, let me know._


	2. Chapter 2

I eventually find him curled up under a tree, fast asleep. I gently shake him. He moans softly and turns over. _I don't have time for this_. I force my arms under his skinny body, not caring if I wake him. I lift him up bridal style as he curls into my chest. I'm shocked by how perfectly he fits in my arms. His skinny legs dangle over one limb. I look at his face. His brown hair looks like soft feathers spread across his forehead. My eyes turn to the odd little curl off the side of his face. The temptation to pull it nags me. I shake these emotions off. _I have really got to stop drinking with Prussia before bed._ Italy's eyes suddenly flutter open. He notices that I'm carrying him and pretends to be asleep. This once, I decide to let him be. This once, I decide we'll take a break from training. And this once, I carry him back to my house.

"Germany?" Italy asks over dinner.

"Hmm?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

I shrug. "Sure."

"Why are you planning on attacking Poland?"

I nearly choke on my wurst. "What?"

"Why are you planning on attacking Poland?"

"How do you know that?" To be honest, attacking Poland wasn't even a

plan yet, it was more an idea that I wasn't sure was good or not.

"You talk in your sleep."

I made a mental note to somehow soundproof my room and lock everyone

out of it. "What did I say?"

The Italian shrugged. "Mostly German, but you kept on repeating 'revenge' and 'invade Poland'. " he says, spinning his noodles around his fork. "Why do you want revenge so bad?"

I don't know why I didn't tell Italy about all the hardships my county has to go through because of the Allies, maybe it would make me seem weak but to a county who would wave his white flag if you so much as glared at him, that didn't make much sense. Instead I shrugged, stated that I was going to bed, cleaned my plate, and made a beeline for my room.


	3. Chapter 3

_Brrring! Brrring!_

I yawn and rub the sleep from my eyes.

_Brrring! Brrring!_

_What time is it?_ I check the small clock near my bed. _1:20 a.m. Who could be calling at this hour?_ I stumble out of bed to the phone.

“Hello?” I yawn. “Ja, this is Germany.”

“Sir! I’ve been told to inform you that riots have been breaking out. Synagogues and Jewish owned shops have been burned and raided!” The voice over the phone says. “All this done by your people!”

“Good.” I state.

“I beg your pardon, but did you just say good?” The voice says, appalled.

“Those damn Jews cause nothing but trouble, serves them right!” I answer.

“But Sir-”

“Next time you call, make sure it’s a real emergency.” I add, slamming the phone down.

 _Awoken for absolutely nothing_. I turn around only to run into Italy.

“I heard you shouting, is everything okay?” He asks, cocking his head to the side.

I exhale loudly. “Yes. Everything is fine. Go back to bed.”

Italy nods. “Okay Germany.”

He wraps his arms around me in a tight hug and then bounces off to his room. I watch him go and think about the early morning phone call. _Why did he think I’d care about some Jews? And who was he_? I stretch and follow the Italian back towards my room.


	4. Chapter 4

"Remind me again why do we have to sign a nonaggression pact with Russia?" My country's current chancellor, Adolf Hitler, asks.

We were currently on our way to Moscow to sign the pact in question.

    "For many reasons, one: we can't have them intervene when we attack Poland and two: because a two-front war did _not_ work out well last time." I say.

He snorts. "No kidding."

My foreign minister, Joachim von Ribbentrop, fidgets uncomfortably.

    "What?" I ask.

    "Nothing. I still don't understand why I have to be here." Joachim replies.

    "You're a foreign minister, you're in charge of relations with other countries."

    "But you actually are a country! Why am I or even Adolf needed? Why can't you and Russia just sign the pact by yourselves?"

I look at him. "Do you not want this job? Because I'm sure that there are many others who would be glad to take it."

Joachim reddens. "Or the other way around. Why does Russia have to be there?" I raise an eyebrow. "Or you." He adds quickly.

Adolf laughs. "What? Are you afraid of Russia?"

Joachim scowals. "I'm not afraid. Intimidated, maybe, but not afraid!"

    "Hush!" I say to my companions. "We're here."

We pull up to the train station to see Russia, his foreign minister, and his county's leader.

Joachim gulps at the sight and Adolf covers a snicker. I glare at the two.

    "Behave." I hiss before stepping onto the platform.

Russia runs up to me and gives a bone crushing hug. "Welcome to Moscow!" He says joyfully.

My face is forced into his coat. It smells sickly sweet. I try not to wrinkle my nose in distaste. He finally releases me.

    "Good to see you too, Russia." I say stiffly. "This is Adolf Hitler, my country's chancellor, and Joachim von Ribbentrop, my foreign minister."

"Welcome!" Russia declares, giving each one a bone crushing hug of their own.

I swallow a smile at Joachim's mortified look. Russia steps back and introduces us to his country's leader, Joseph Stalin, and his foreign minister, Viacheslav Molotov. We all shake hands and say our hellos.

Russia smiles and leads us towards his home. He falls into step with me.

    "How are things going at home?" He asks.

I stiffen. "A bit better, no thanks to you." I silently curse myself for my smart mouth.

Russia frowns. "Every country's hurting due to the war, not just yours."

I try not to laugh. "True, but that was _without_ a loss of land and high reparations to pay. My inflation was hell."

Russia cocks his head. "But you're over that now, da? You're not bitter or anything?"

I force on a smile. "No, I'm not bitter. This is a pact for peace and new beginnings." I say, not believing a single word.

 


	5. Chapter 5

“Japan! Germany’s home!” I hear Italy before I see him.

I was absolutely exhausted. I had just gotten back from Russia’s, there were some problems at the hotel so my party and I were invited to stay at Russia’s house. Joachim thought Russia was creepy, then he met his younger sister, Belarus……...I don’t think the poor fellow slept a wink. Well, I don’t think any of us did. Latvia, Estonia, and Lithuania nearly jumped out of their skins every time they saw Russia, which was not comforting to any of us. The food…….I’m just glad that experience is over. The pact is signed, so that part of the plan is all taken care of.

“GERMANYYYYYY!” Italy shouts, leaping into my arms and forcing me to drop my overnight bag.

I stagger back at the sudden weight. “Hallo Italy.” I say. “It’s good to see you too.”

“Welcome back.” a calmer Japan says, picking up my dropped bag.

I attempt to pry the Italian off of me which only causes him to cling tighter.

“It’s good to be back.” I sigh, giving up on freeing myself.

“Germany, I made some pasta while you were gone. It was really good!” Italy announces. “And Japan showed me how to make some of his country’s food! That was really good too!”

“That’s nice Italy, did you keep up with training while I was gone?” I ask.

“About that-” Japan starts.

“I convinced Japan to give me the day off!” The Italian says proudly.

I groan. Italy was like an over excited dog, if you didn’t have him do some sort of exercise during the day, he would have way too much energy. _There goes my chance of a decent night’s sleep_. Italy then springs off my chest and runs back to the house, leaving me alone with Japan. I take my bag from him.

“So besides cooking and no training, what else were you two up to while I was gone.” I ask.

“We did a bit of sightseeing in your country, it is quite beautiful here.” Japan complements.

I blush. “Where did you go?”

“Heidelberg, lovely town.”

We continue to chat all the way back to the house.


	6. Chapter 6

I wince as Italy digs around in my shoulder, looking for the small bullet. My army had successfully conquered Poland without much trouble, but just because you win a fight doesn't mean you'll walk away unscathed. I grit my teeth in pain as I try to scoot away from the Italian.

"It's fine, Italy. I can get it out myself." I say hoping he'll accept my offer.

"No you won't." Italy states.

"What?" "You won't. Pretend to the other nations that you're tough all you want, but don't do that to me."

I stare at him in disbelief. "What are you talking about?"

Italy rolls his eyes. "I may be an emotional, weak country but I'm not stupid. I have eyes you know."

"I'm not following."

"This macho business! If I let you walk out of here to 'take care of' that bullet, you'd try to get it yourself for awhile. Once you realized that you'd actually need my help you'd either be too proud or embarrassed to ask. That bullet would stay in there only to become infected."

I stare at him, speechless.

"Now hold still, just a bit more and-there!" Italy says holding the bullet proudly over his head.

"Ho-how did you know I'd do that?" I stutter.

"What? About you and the bullet? Germany we've been friends for yea-"

"No." I stop him. "I've had friends before yet none of them know all that."

Italy pauses to think. "Well," he finally says. "Maybe you're just able to be yourself around me."

The Italian finishes cleaning and wrapping my wound before bouncing away, leaving me to think about what he said

 

. That night in bed I still couldn't shake the day's conversation. _Do I really act different around other countries?_ What was I thinking, of course I did! People saw me and instantly knew I was some tough guy, which I guess I kind of am. I thought back to Italy. When I was around him though, I didn't feel as though I had to live up to people's expectations as much. He never saw me as anyone but who I choose to be. I could open up a little more, show a softer side. Show a little more, well, me. I groan and turn over, only to come face to face with the guy of my thoughts.

"What the hell are you doing in my bed?!?" I ask, alarmed.

Just then I hear a rumble of thunder. Italy squeaks and ducks under the sheets. For some reason my hands decide this is the perfect time to reach under the covers. I gently pull the frightened Italian out and into my chest. Part of me wonders what the hell I'm doing, the other half tells the first to shut up and enjoy the moment. Another crack of thunder causes Italy to bury himself deeper into my chest.

"Shhh." I whisper soothingly.

I wrap my arms further around him. Resting my head on his, I drink in his sweet smell. The scent of basil and herbs tickle my nose as the two of us fell asleep in each others arms.


	7. Chapter 7

"Mr. Germany, sir, I've been sent to repor-Whoa!" I hear a voice say.

I quickly sit up and push a still sleeping Italy off of me, ignoring his moans in protest. I try to hide the growing blush as I stand to address the man.

"Yes, what is it?" I ask, trying not to notice the man looking from Italy to me.

_Thank god we both remembered to wear pajamas last night._

"Oh yes! England, France, Australia, and New Zealand, have declared war! You and your.......friend are required to meet for a world meeting in an hour." He responds. "I'll just leave you two alone now."

Before he can leave the room, I grab him by the collar.

"Now listen to me." I hiss. "Breathe a word of this to anyone, and you may find yourself an enemy of the government. I do believe rumors about what we do to those has gotten out." He gulps. "Unless you want to find out if those rumors are true, I suggest to keep this quiet." I threaten.

The man nods and scurries out of my room. I sigh as Japan walks in.

"What was that about?" He inquires, motioning to the scared man.

"Nothing. We've got a world conference in an hour, now help me wake Italy."

 

"HOW COULD YOU JUST INVADE POLAND LIKE THAT?!?" England yells.

"Same way you invaded me last war." I state.

"WE HAD PEACE! AND YOU JUST BLEW IT ALL AWAY!" He shrieks.

I tap my fingers thoughtfully on my chin. "You don't have to declare war, you know. You could just move on with your life, what little of it there is." I taunt.

I know I shouldn't, but a war is my goal, plus teasing the uptight Brit is kinda fun.

"Germany, dude, not okay." America pips in, trying to calm the fuming England.

I turn my attention to him. "Are you interested in joining in on your favorite pastime too? Because we all could really party."

America reddens. "No, I'm staying neutral."

"Like that worked out well last time." I say, egging him on.

The American grits his teeth. "If you could've kept your subs away from my neutrality I wouldn't have had to." 

"Are you sure you weren't just looking for a reason to join in?"

America glares, but says nothing.

"Well, the paperwork is all set up, whenever you guys are ready to do some signing." Japan says carrying a stack of papers and setting them down on the table.

England stands up and storms over to the stack.

"I'll make you pay you bloody bastard!" He spits.

I raise my eyes in amusement. _We'll see who will be doing the paying, and it won't be me you crooked toothed freak._ I watch as France looks sorrowfully at me. I wrinkle my brow in confusion.

"You've changed." He frowns. "I hope we can fix that."

I scoff at the Frenchman's peculiar words. I run my eyes over the rest of the room. Australia and New Zealand nod in agreement as they follow France to sign the declaration of war. I ignore them. I got what I wanted, mission accomplished.


	8. Chapter 8

 “Do you have the list?” I ask Adolf.

He nods. “Got it right here.”

Every few weeks, Adolf and I get together to go over the list of people that needed to be sent to a concentration or extermination camp and choose the appropriate one. He sets the list down on the table.

        “Frida Openheimer and Flora Ehrlich, Homosexuals. Found in bed together by a neighbor who was loyal to her country and reported them.” Adolf reads. “Extermination or concentration?”

        “What are their ages?”

        “54 and 51.”

I think for a minute. “Send them to a concentration camp, if they aren’t much use, let them go to an extermination.”

Adolf makes a note before continuing. “Else Ermann, Georg Brinnitzer, and Lowis TenBrink, all Jewish.” He makes a face. “ Ages 40, 76, and 68.”

        “Concentration camp for all. Those damn Jews should pay for what they did to my country.”

Adolf nods and makes another note. “Irmgard Oelsner, communist. Age 29.”

        “Concentration camp.”

        “Max Kohn, disabled. Age 76.”

        “Extermination camp.”

        “Maria Bihari, Gypsy. Age 19.”

        “Concentration camp.”

We continue through the list, deciding how best to rid our country of the filth that polluted it. I hear a knock on the door.

        “Who is it?” I ask, not bothering to get up.

        “Italy.”

        “Come in.”

Italy bounces in. “What are you doing?”

        “Paperwork.” Adolf answers.

        “Oh. That’s boring. I mostly let Romano take care of our paperwork.” Italy responds before turning to me. “Japan wanted me to tell you that dinner is ready and if you want some before it gets cold you should come out.”

        “Ja, danke Italy. I’ll be out in a moment.” I say with a smile.

I watch the cheerful Italian leave. _He always is so cute when he’s happy_. A pair of clapping hands brings me back to reality.

        “Yoo-hoo! Germany!” Adolf says.

        “Wha?” I reply, shaking away any more thoughts about a certain Italian.

        “Sorry, I was just...thinking.”

Adolf raises his eyebrows. “About what?”

        “About the fact that we have a list to finish!” I snap, trying to cover the true emotions.

He raises his arms in defence. “Sorry, its just-”

        “Its just what?” I say, narrowing my eyes.

        “Nothing.”

I nod in approval. “Good Answer.”


	9. Chapter 9

Japan leaves the torture chamber.

"Any luck?" I ask.

"No." He says. "France still won't surrender."

I growl. I was getting impatient. My troops had easily conquered most of that bastard's country. Japan and I had been holding France here for a little over a week. We had given him very little food and water. France was more or less tortured daily, depending on my mood. Yet he still wouldn't surrender. Italy, of course, knew none of this.

"I'll have a try." I say picking up a small bowl of gruel that had been sitting out for days.

I push open the door to be hit by the strong smell of human waste. France sits in a dark corner, his perfectly styled hair is matted and dirty. His bright blue jacket turned a murky grey.

"Hungry yet?" I ask.

He glares at me as he slumps over. The faint light casts shadows over his sunken face making him look like a monster from one of America's horror movies. France reaches out his hands to take the bowl. I stretch my arm to hand it to him and drop it a few inches short of his fingertips. The bowl lands upside down in a puddle of god-knows-what.

"Oops. My bad." I smirk.

France winces at the sight but is too hungry to refuse. He begins shoveling handfuls into his mouth.

I kneel next to him. "Look how easily the country of romance can be reduced to the country of dirt." I spit.

France carefully wipes my saliva off his face and says nothing.

"LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU!" I scream grabbing a fistful of his hair and forcing him to face upwards.

"What do you want Germany?" He whispers.

"Speak up." I say standing to plant a swift kick to his ribcage.

His doubles over, wheezing.

"I said, what the hell do you want, Germany?" France coughs.

I kick his face, breaking his nose. France lets out a cry of pain.

I lean down. "Don't use that tone with me."

France replies by spitting in my face. I reward him with another kick.

"Stand up, you pathetic excuse for a country." I hiss.

France stumbles to his feet.

"So the old dog can learn new tricks." I smirk.

"What do you want?" France glares.

"Oh just you to surrender, round up all your Jews, and send them to camps. You know, the usual." I shrug.

"I will not let you hurt my people."

"But the thing is," I smirk. "I already have. You see, everyday you insist on staying here, more of your people are killed by my soldiers." I circle him. "More and more people are dying because you're just too stubborn to give in." I grab his shoulders and whisper in his ear. "Those deaths are on your chest." I smile and look at him. "But you could end it! Go home, take a bath, god knows you need one. Your hair is a mess and you sit in a pile of your own feces daily. How much longer will you endure this - you, the 'beautiful country of romance'?" I coo.

 

"It's not about just me. It's about my people. My looks and well-being are important to me but they only come second to my people. They hold the priority." France coughs.

"Then surely," I sneer."You know what is happening to them at this very moment?"

France gazes at me with a frozen stare. The fear was faint but still lively enough for me to detect. I'd cornered him.

"As you sit here trying to 'protect' them you are only causing them more harm. It is bad enough that your land is plagued with Jews and other disgusting subspecies of humans, but now even your innocent people - your women and children - are being mixed in and taken as well-" I start.

"Stop," France whispers hoarsely.

A smirk spreads across my face.

"They're being brought to camps - camps that we've established in your country due to your bitterness. There they are working for tiny specs of food. They are dying from sickness. They are cold. They are hungry. They are miserable-"

"I said stop," France sniffs.

"Every day thousands die at your hand. At your stubbornness. By sitting here and refusing a peaceful resolve you are sending your people to their death."

France stares down at his feet. Now was the time to bend him to my will. With the facts I presented to him he couldn't refuse.

"There is a way to stop this, you know." I coo.

"It is just a dirty trick." France snaps.

"That may be, but which is the better option? Sending your innocent people to their death or simply handing over the dysfunctional bodies to me so that I can take care of them?"

"You've changed. You're evil."

"Which will it be, France? Every second here means another body sent to the fires. Another child-"

"Stop hurting my people!" France growls.

"It's not my choice France - it's yours. You are just wasting more lives as we speak."

"The Jews are my people too-"

"The. Jews. Are. My. People. Too. Seven lives wasted, France."

"Stop-"

"One more."

"Stop it!"

"There goes two. Women? Children? Who knows?"

"...God. You are evil..."

"How many was that? Five more?"

"Fine."

"What was that? I couldn't hear you over the sound of your enslaved people."

"I said 'fine'. I, Francis Bonnefoy, personification of the nation of France, surrender..." France says in a voice coated with remorse.

"Good boy," I place my hand on his head.

"You might be able to touch and abuse me but you are not to lay a hand on my people anymore."

"We'll see what we can arrange." I smile.

 

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_**Oooooh evil Germany! Anyway, I'd like to thank my awesome friend for writing most of this chapter. Believe me, my torture scene was crap, so thank you Friend for making a more believable France.** _


	10. Chapter 10

_1:13pm_. I sigh looking at the clock. I had been working finishing the paperwork for France’s surrender since 8 this morning. My stomach rumbled. I hadn't even eaten lunch. My gaze falls on the piles of work still left to do. I hear a knock on the door.

"Germany?" Italy asks from behind the door. "Can I come in?"

"Ja." I say rubbing my forehead.

Italy walks over carrying a small picnic basket. "Germany, do you want to go on a picnic with me?"

"I can't I still have a lot of papers to finish."

"But you haven't eaten!"

I shrug. "I'll be fine." My stomach then rumbles again in disagreement.

Italy cocks an eyebrow. "That is no longer a question, it is an order!"

I look at him. "I beg your pardon?"

"You haven't eaten and your work can be finished later. You are going to join me on a picnic!" He states.

"But-" I protest.

"No. You. Me. Picnic. Now." Italy declares.

I grumble as I stand from my chair and follow the Italian out of my study.

“It’s such a perfect day!” Italy says, taking a deep breath. “The world smells so nice too! Don’t you think Germany?”

“What? Oh, yeah sure.” I reply, trying to figure out the best way to lead the invasion of England.

“The sun looks so pretty!”

“Sure, sure.” I say. _Would it be better to attack from sea or sky? Our navy has improved a bit since the previous war but England’s had many years as an island. Sky is probably the best option, at least for now._

A pair of snapping fingers wakes me from battle plans.

“Germany?”

“Huh? What?”

“I was just saying its too bad Japan couldn’t join us, we should do something with the three of us next time.”

“Yeah, sure.” _It’d probably be best to attack his shipments, without supplies he can’t fight very well. Coastal towns would be a good place to star-_

“Don’t you think so, Germany?” The Italian suddenly asks me.

“Oh yeah, sure.”

“Did you even hear anything I just said?”

“Um….”

Italy looks at me. “You were coming up with battle plans, weren’t you?”

“Well we are in the middle of a war, that I, at least, don’t intend to lose.” I curse myself after hearing what I just said.

The Italian stiffens. “I am trying to win this war too you know.”

“I’m sorry, I know that. It just came out.”

“I thought Prussia had the smart tongue, but apparently you’ve got some lip too.”

“I’m sorry Italy, I didn’t mean it.”

“Then you should be more careful about what you say. Words can start wars. It would suit you to get rid of that smart mouth before it really gets you into trouble."

“I know, I’m just stressed I guess. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“And you think Japan and I don’t?”

An awkward silence falls over us. Suddenly Italy speaks.

“Let’s just agree that both of us are under a lot of pressure and we both cope with it differently.”

“Agreed.”

More silence.

“So how exactly do you cope?” I inquire.

A sly smile suddenly crosses Italy’s face. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

He takes me to a small cafe on the border where our countries meet.

“What is this place?” I ask.

“ _La Campagna,_ I started coming here when I felt a little homesick. It let me be close to both you and home.”

I wasn’t one to really notice pretty things, but this tiny shop was beautiful. Italy’s eyes sparkled in the evening light.

“Come on.” He says, tugging me into the shop. “I want you to try something.”

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

**_I know Germany and Italy's countries don't actually meet (stupid Switzerland and Austria, freaking cockblocks), but it is cuter to say they do so, yes I am messing with geography, deal with it._ **


	11. Chapter 11

“Wait here, I’m gonna go and order.” Italy says, leaving me at the table.

He walks up to the counter. Italy speaks in rapid Italian with the worker and soon comes back with two plates of a coffee colored cake-looking thing. He sets one if front of me.

I eye it suspiciously. “What’s this?”

“Oh just try it.” The Italian says, already digging into his share.

I carefully take a small bite. The sweet taste dances in my mouth, mingling with a chocolatey coffee flavor.

“So?” Italy asks. “What do you think?”

“Not bad.” I reply, scooping up another bite.

He smiles, his eyes sparkling. “I knew you’d like it.”

“What’s it called?”

“Tiramisu. Romano and I make it every so often as a treat.”

“Interesting.” I say taking another bite. “So what exactly is that brother of yours up to?”

Italy shrugs. “Probably at Spain’s house. Which is interesting because all he does when he comes back is complain about Spain. I’m pretty sure Romano either has a crush on him or just goes over there to steal his tomatoes. Or both.”

I stare at him. “Romano’s……..gay?”

Italy suddenly realizes his mistake. “Um, I don’t know. He doesn’t like many people so-”

I hold up a hand to stop him. “Whatever goes on in your country is none of my business.”

The Italian sighs in relief. “It’s just homosexuals in your country aren’t exactly safe at the moment.”

“Why would they deserve to be safe?”

“Well, they are people too.”

I snort. “Hardly. The only thing worse than a homosexual is a jew.”

“Why are you doing that to people?”

“Doing what?”

“Rounding them up, putting them in a place worse than death.”

“They’re stinking up my country.”

“You say that like they’re a disease rather than actual people.”

“They are.” I state, confused at why Italy couldn’t see that.

The Italian shakes his head. “When you look back on this, I don’t think you’ll be very happy with what you see.”

I frown. _My people were dying but the conditions back home are improving. What is a few worthless lives when my country is getting better?_


	12. Chapter 12

“I want you all to be on your best behavior for Herr Beilschmidt.” Fritz Roehm says.

Once a month, I ran a Hitler Youth meeting to make sure the future of my country was in good hands. Of course, none of the instructors or boys knew that they were showing their own country their progress, all they knew is that I was some important mystery person.

I walk through the lines of boys, carefully inspecting my future soldiers. Some of the boys look nervous as I pass by while others keep looking straight ahead. I stop at a boy who is so short he looks about 12.

“What is your name?” I ask him.

“Rudolf Heidemann, sir.” The boy responds.

“How old are you exactly?” I say, looking Rudolf up and down.

He reddens. “I’m 16, sir. Most think I’m younger because of my height.”

The rest of the boys snicker. I silence them with a glare.

“But I’m fast!” Rudolf blurts out.

I raise an eyebrow.

“Is that so?”

He nods.

“Alright,” I say. “Herr Roehm, this track is about 60 meters, correct?”

“I believe so.”

I turn my attention back to Rudolf. “Run all the way around this track and be back here in under 14 seconds, those are the girls’ expectations so I believe you can easily meet them?”

He nods again. “Yes sir!”

“Now for the rest of you,” I say to the boys. “We are going to watch little Rudolf run.”

We crowd around the track as Rudolf gets into position.

“The rules are simple,” I say, striding across the track. “Make it all the way around in under 14 seconds. Ready?”

The small boy bobs his head, blue eyes sparkling with excitement.

“One, two, three, GO!”

Rudolf races down the track. I grin. _The kid’s right._ I think to myself. _He is fast_. I watch as he begins to round the corner and make his way back to the start. The rest of the boys cheer as he crosses the line.

“What’s my time?” He pants.

I look at my watch. “Four seconds to spare.”

Rudolf smiles and joins the rest of the boys.

“Now, does anyone think they’re faster?” I ask.

Hands wave in the air, each wanting their turn to show their speed. I smile proudly. _We’re going to be just fine here_.

“Herr Beilschmidt, phone for you.” One of the Hitler Youth leaders calls.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” I say to the excited boys.

I chuckle at their grumbles as I walk into the building.

“Hallo?” I say as I’m handed the phone.

“West! Thank god, I reached you!” I hear Prussia say.

“Gilbert! I was just helping train the boys. How are the girls treating you?”

“Fine, they’re fine. They’ll make good mothers. Anyway I was trying to reach you because one of our spies has just informed me that England is planning on bombing the house today. Please tell me no one’s home.”

“Japan had to leave to take care of some things back in his country, we’re both out of the house, and-OH MY GOD ITALY!” I drop the phone.

“West? WEST!”

I race out of the building.

“I have to go.” I say to Fritz. “Keep up the good work.”

“Yeah bu-” He protests.

I leap into my car. _I’m coming Italy._


	13. Chapter 13

By the time I get home my house is already in shatters.

        “ITALY!” I yell into the smoky air. “ITALY!”

I start to dig through pieces of my house, hoping to find the Italian under them.

        “ITALY!” I call again.

        “Germany?” I hear a faint voice whisper.

        “ITALY?”

        “GERMANY! I’M OVER HERE!” Italy’s voice yells from a small pile a few feet away from me.

I rush over and begin throwing pieces of wood over my shoulder. Finally I see his curl, covered with ash. I pull more pieces away to see his face. Italy gives me a crooked grin.

        “Are you okay?” I ask.

He coughs. “A piece of wood fell on my arm and I can’t move it. I think it might be broken. But other than that and a few bumps and bruises, I think I’m okay.”

        “What happened?” I say as I continue to remove more bits of my house.

        “I was in the basement when the alarms went off.”

I see a blot of bright red on his forehead. “Italy, you’re bleeding.”

He touches his head. “Paint.” he says rubbing the substance between his fingers.

        “What?"

        “I was painting before the bombs hit.”

        “Why were you painting?”

Italy begins to say something. I cut him off with a hug.

        “Oh who cares.” I say pressing him tightly to my chest. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Italy holds onto me tightly. “Me too.”

I pull away so I can inspect his injured arm. It’s twisted in an odd angle. I help him to his feet and he curls his wound to his chest. Italy leans on my shoulder as he limps over to my car.


	14. Chapter 14

WHERE IS MY BROTHER YOU POTATO BASTARD?!?" I hear an Italian shout.

I turn around to see a fuming Romano.

"This is all your fault!" he spits.

I hold my hands up defensively. I had gotten Italy to the hospital and called both my brother and his. Prussia arrived a few minutes after I had and we both were waiting for Italy to come back out when Romano stormed in.

The smaller Italian stretches himself up to his full height, only coming up to my nose. "If he had just stayed at home with me, none of this would've happened." He shrieks.

I am about to say something in reply when the doctor taps my shoulder.

"Mr. Vargas will be fine. He has a broken arm and he might be a bit sore. I advise he get some rest and he'll be better in no time." The doctor informs us.

"Thank you, Doctor." I reply as Italy hobbles in.

"Ciao, fratello!" He smiles.

Romano huffs in greeting.

"So, Italy, how do you feel?" I ask.

"Good. My arm is as heavy as a rock," He says lifting up his cast. "But good."

"I parked the car out back. Come on, we should go." Romano says to his brother.

"Okay." Italy says. "Come on." He calls to Prussia and I.

I stare at Italy confused. "What?"

He shrugs. "Your house is in pieces, so I thought you could live with us until you get a new one."

Romano stares at his brother as if he had grown a second head. "Over my dead body."

"It's okay, Italy, Prussia and I can probably go stay with one of our leaders."

"I AM NOT STAYING AT ADOLF HITLER'S HOUSE!" Prussia says.

"Why not?" I ask.

"Because," Prussia states. "He snores louder than you and won't let me take Gilbird in the house." He says stroking his beloved pet.

I roll my eyes. If you wanted my brother to like you, first you had to like Gilbird.

"Romano, where else are they supposed to go? They let me stay at their house for a while, it's only right to return the favor." Italy tries to convince his brother.

"I don't want their disgusting German-ness getting over our freshly cleaned house." He huffs.

"But you don't ever clean the house."

"I'LL HAVE TO IF THERE ARE GERMANS LIVING THERE!"

Italy looks at his brother then leans over to whisper something in his ear. Romano pales.

"Fine." He grumbles. "But you guys sleeping in the garage."

"Thank god we don't have to bunk with bird hater." Prussia says, relieved.

"What did you say to him?" I ask Italy as we walk out to our cars.

He gives me an innocent smile. "Nothing."

I eye him suspiciously. This was going to be an interesting experience.


	15. Chapter 15

Turns out Romano wasn't joking about Prussia and I staying in his garage. Italy tried to reason with his brother but he wouldn't budge.

"Sorry about him." Italy apologizes while handing Prussia and I some pillows and blankets. "Give him a week or two to warm up to you guys."

"It's fine." I say. "Thank you for letting us stay here."

Italy smiles. "You're welcome! Can I get you guys anything?"

I look at Prussia who shakes his head. "No thank you, we're good."

"Alright. Tell me if you need anything. Night!"

"Night." Prussia and I respond.

Italy shuts off the light and closes the garage door.

"This brings back memories, doesn't it?" Prussia says as we settle under the covers.

"What?" I ask.

"Right, your spotty childhood memories." He replies. "When we were younger, we used to share a bed."

I nod though I don't recall any of what he's talking about. When I was younger I hit my head pretty badly. Prussia claims it was in battle but I wouldn't be surprised if he had dropped me. The doctor said it was nothing serious, I just couldn't remember much of my childhood. Some places and people could have a feeling of familiarity but that wasn't very often. Settling into the covers, I let the day's events replay in my mind. My eyelids begin to droop and I let myself relax and be soothed by the familiar sound of my brother's snores as I drift off to sleep.


	16. Chapter 16

"FRATELLO I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU ATE MY LAST TOMATO I WILL KILL YOU!" A screaming Romano wakes Prussia and I up.

I look at my brother.

"Do you think we should go in and help them?" Prussia asks.

I hear a loud crash followed by more screaming.

"Probably."

We open the door and walk into the kitchen to see Romano chasing his screaming brother around the room. Italy notices Prussia and I and runs to hide behind me.

"What is going on?" I ask.

"Fratello thinks I ate his last tomato, but it was him." Italy says clutching my tank top with his good arm.

"I was at Spain's all week and haven't had any tomatoes since I've been home." Romano spits, trying to pull his younger brother out from behind me.

"I just got home last night!" Italy protests, using my body as a shield.

"Just calm down." Prussia says, attempting to hold back Romano.

The angry Italian turns his attention to my brother. "It was probably you! You potato bastards ate my tomatoes!"

Prussia tries to cover a laugh but fails.

"Us?" He snorts. "We're probably the last people to steal your tomatoes."

This causes Romano to get even angrier, turning a brighter red than the tomatoes he was looking for. He proceeds to launch himself at my older brother, screaming profanities the whole time.

"Is he always like this?" I ask Italy.

He shakes his head. "He gets angry in the mornings, so even the smallest things set him off."

"Did you eat his tomatoes?"

"No." Italy says at bit too quickly.

I raise my eyebrows.

He blushes. "Okay. I was really hungry last night and ate one. I was planing to go and buy more before he woke up, but I overslept."

Romano must of heard his brother's confession because he finally gets off of Prussia and turns to face Italy and I.

"So it was you." He hisses.

Italy screams and begins to run around the kitchen again. Romano gives his own battle cry and gives chase. I stretch out my arm to grab Romano by the collar.

"Let me go potato bastard!" He hisses, trying to squirm away.

I tighten my grip on the wriggling Italian. "Can't you just go out and buy more tomatoes?"

Romano continues to struggle. "Those were San Marzanos, I was planning on making them into a sauce but someone," Romano glares at his brother. "Ate them all."

Italy yelps and ducks behind Prussia.

"Again, why can't you buy more tomatoes?" Prussia asks.

Romano gives a frustrated huff. "They are out of season. Those ones were the last fresh San Marzanos and they won't be as good until next summer."

"I could buy you some Roma tomatoes." Italy offers, peering out from behind my older brother.

Romano sighs. "Fine, but you better pick out good ones, I don't want any of the Canistrino crap you always get."

Italy nods and runs over to hug his brother. Romano rolls his eyes and says something to his brother in Italian. Italy laughs and responds in more Italian.

I look at Prussia. "Do you have any idea what they're saying?" I ask in my native language.

Prussia shakes his head.

We stand awkwardly until Prussia finally clears his throat.

"Oh sorry. I was just asking Romano what we should do for breakfast." Italy says.

"We both haven't really been home so we don't have anything including tomatoes." Romano adds glaring at his brother.

"So we were thinking of going out to grab something quick and then to get some stuff from the market not too far from here." Italy says.

I look at my brother and shrug.

"Sounds good." Prussia replies.

 


	17. Chapter 17

"Hey potato bastard, got any fours?" Romano asks me.

"Nope, go fish."

After getting breakfast and more groceries, the four of us returned to the Italy brothers' house. Bored out of our minds, Italy suggested we play a round of Go Fish. Prussia, of course, wanted to throw in something to compete for. So whoever won got to choose who slept where.

"Prussia, got any jacks?" I question my brother.

Prussia swears and hands me his cards. I smile and set them in my deck.

"Romano, got any kings?" I ask.

Romano smirks. "Nope, go fish."

I sigh and reach into the pile. _A four? Romano was looking for this._ I tuck it into my hand, keeping the emotions off my face.

"Got any kings, Germany?" Italy says with an innocent smile.

I glare at him and hand him the three kings for him to pair it with the fourth that I was looking for.

"Grazie." He says, brushing his hand against mine to take the cards.

Shivers shoot up my arm. _What the hell?_ I brush it off.

"Hey fratello, got any fours?" Italy asks his brother.

"You sneaky bastard." Romano says giving Italy his cards.

Italy flashes his brother a smile. "Hey Prussia, got any threes?"

Prussia holds his hand to his chest. "Are you cheating?"

Italy smile widens. "Nope, I'm just good."

My brother eyes the Italian suspiciously as he hands him his cards.

Italy turns back to face me. "Hey Germany, got any tens?"

I inspect my hand. "Nope, go fish."

"Hey Italy, got any tens?" Prussia asks with a smile.

"Who's cheating now?" Italy replies handing two cards to my brother.

"Romano, got any aces?"

"Go fish, you bastard, and I believe you have my three tens."

Prussia swears and gives the Italian his cards.

"Fratello, do you have any queens?"

"Go fish."

"Italy do you have any fours?" I ask.

"You said you didn't have any!" Romano cuts in.

"I 'fished' it." I say motioning to the cards in the center.

Italy hands me his cards. "Well I'm out. Time to count pairs!"

Italy ends up winning with five pairs, Romano and I tie for second with three, and Prussia takes third with one.

The three of us groan as Italy realizes he gets to pick who sleeps where.

"Let's see," the Italian says tapping his chin. "Fratello, you can either sleep on the pull out couch or join Prussia on your bed."

Romano groans. "Why do you hate me?"

Prussia winks at him. "Want to join the awesome me in bed?"

Romano and I roll our eyes.

"I would rather die." Romano hisses.

"And Germany can join me in my room." Italy finishes.

I gulp. "Wh-What?"

Italy gives me a look. "Don't act like we don't do it at your house."

Romano looks at me horrified while Prussia tries to cover his laughter.

I redden. "Our brothers didn't need to know that though." I mutter.

"YOU HAVE BEEN SLEEPING WITH THE POTATO BASTARD FOR HOW LONG?!" Romano shrieks.

"Yeah! Go get some baby brother!" Prussia says punching me lightly in the shoulder.

My cheeks turn a brighter red. "We don't sleep together, we just sometimes share a bed."

"Sometimes?" Italy looks at me. "Every night since the beginning of the war is not 'sometimes'"

"You're not helping." I hiss at the smaller nation as Romano gets angrier.

"IF YOU HURT A HAIR ON MY FRATELLO'S HEAD I WILL KILL YOU!" Romano screams.

I hold my hands up and try to calm him down. "I won't, we just share a bed on occasion, that's all."

"That better be all." Romano grumbles, glaring at me.

"I swear, we're just friends." I say, though a tiny part secretly wishes we were more.  
  
  


_~_~_~_ ~_~_~_~_~_ ~_~_~_ ~_~_~_ ~_~_~_ ~_~_~_ ~_~_~_ ~_~_~_~_~_~_

_Ooooh_ _Germanyyyyyy you gay trash man you._  
_Anyway,_ _I'm_ _glad you guys enjoy it (I love reading all those weird comments), and I'm sorry for disappearing for so long._ _I'm_ _gonna try to update more often but no promises ;)._  
_One last thing, I have no idea when Go Fish became a thing but I don't understand the rules of poker and explaining some weird other card game felt too complicated, so I suck with a game most people are familiar with._


	18. Chapter 18

After dinner and a shower, I join Italy in his large bed.

"Mmm, you smell good." The Italian remarks cuddling into my chest.

My arms curl naturally around him as I inhale deeply. "So do you."

Italy giggles and gives me a peck on the chin. I feel my face redden.

"Germany looks so cute when he's embarrassed." Italy says tapping my nose with his pointer.

My blush deepens.

"Just go to sleep." I huff, trying not to show that I enjoy the attention from the smaller country.

Italy giggles and nods. He closes his eyes and buries his face in my chest. I smile fondly at the Italian. I wouldn't never say so to anyone other than myself, but I cared about Italy more than I probably should. Okay so maybe a little more than cared. Here I was throwing people into camps for doing the same thing that I was. Loving someone of the same gender. I hate hypocrites, yet here am I being one. I smoothed Italy's soft hair. Before I could stop myself I planted my lips on his head. _Idiot._ I try to force the feelings down, forget them, and pretend they don't exist. But they did. And I hated myself for it. _Italy is just a friend, nothing more. Of course I would care about a friend, right?_ Italy sighs in his sleep. A large smile spread across his face. I can't help but smile too. _He's such an idiot, but......._ I sigh. No I could never love him. It'd be unacceptable. Two men in a relationship is disgusting. I must be ill. Mentally ill. I'm choosing to like him. Those were reasons of homosexuality, yet none of them fit.

"I'm not gay." I whisper as if saying it might bring my heterosexuality back.

I moan. I had fallen for an idiot. A _male_ idiot. The last thing in the world I needed happened. If we win this war we will never even get a chance together. Ever. Suddenly winning the war didn't seem that important. But I can't just randomly surrender, the other countries'll know something's up. I've got to be sneaky. I've got to lose this war without them realizing it. And maybe if I find the right way to do it, I won't go through another depression because of them.

I smile.

I'm going to lose World War II.

I'm going to lose World War II _for Italy._


	19. Chapter 19

"Italy." I whisper into the sleeping nation's ear. "It's time to wake up."

Italy's amber eyes flutter open, causing my heart to skip a beat.

"Buongiorno Germany." He mumbles as he cuddles into my chest.

"Guten morgen Italy." I reply.

I sit up in bed, trying to ignore the moans of protest from the smaller nation.

"Come on." I say patting Italy's bare back. "You need to get dressed before Japan arrives."

The Italian groans and wraps his arms around me trying to force me back to bed. "Just a few more minutes." He pleads.

I'm tempted to say yes and spend a little more time cuddling with my ally, but I know that Japan is going to arrive soon. While I'm fine with a nude Italy, I know Japan isn't.

"You need to put on some clothes."

"Clothes are overrated." Italy whines.

"Just put some pants on at least."

"Why? We both prefer them to be off." The Italian winks suggestively.

I feel heat rise to my cheeks. "Just put on your stupid trousers." I say, picking his pants off the floor where he had left them the night before.

Italy looks at the pants then at me. "Nah." He replies before leaping out of bed, only to race through the house in his birthday suit.

"ITALY!" I scream.

"MY HOUSE MY RULES!" He cackles as he runs through the hallway.

"WHY THE HELL DO WE NEED SCREAMING STREAKERS AT 9 O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING?!?!" I hear an irritated Romano yell.

"For once I agree with Romano," I hear my brother shout from Romano's room. "ITALY, YOUR HOUSE IS NOT A STRIP CLUB, PUT ON YOUR DAMN PANTS!"

Even though it had been about two months, Prussia and I were still stuck at the Italian brothers' home. By the way things were turning out, it looked like our best option was to stay with them until the end of the war. _Ding dong_ , I hear Italy's doorbell ring.

"Italy don't you-" I start as I tear out of the room only to witness a butt naked Italy welcome an uncomfortable Japan into his home.

"Italy, would you please put some clothes on?" Japan asks, attempting to politely cover his eyes.

"N-"

"He'd love to." I interrupt and shove the Italian towards his room. "We'll be right back."

 

Soon after Italy had been forced into clothes (it's harder than it sounds), we both joined Japan in Italy's dining room.

"Ciao Japan!" Italy says giving the smaller nation a hug.

"It's good to see you too Italy." Japan says stiffly. "You look well Germany." He then says to me.

"Thanks." I say, suddenly noticing the bags under his eyes.

I take a closer look at my ally and see that he had also lost some weight. _The stress of the war must be getting to him._ I couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for what I was about to ask.

"Well, now that we're all clothed and here, we might as well start this meeting." I state. "Any news from anyone?"

"How's the fight with Russia?" Japan asks.

Invading Russia had been a bad idea that I was fully aware of, so naturally it was going as horrible as planned.

"Just fine." I say. "A few setbacks, but nothing we can't pull through." _I can't believe no one has questioned my choices yet. Even Italy should be able to see how bad these ideas are._

"How's everything for you, Japan?"

The Asian country gives a huge sigh and rubs his temples. "America has been visiting China a lot lately, whatever it's about it isn't good news for me. He also has stopped shipping his oil over."

I could hardly believe my luck. I wanted to pull the trigger-happy American into the war. Though he wasn't as experienced as some of the other countries, he'd go all in to win this war. My hope was to convince Japan to attack America to get him to join the fight. Now that Japan had a bit of a grudge against the American, he might be more keen to agree with me.

"The sucks Japan." Italy says patting him on the back.

"Might I offer some input?" I ask.

Japan stares at me then nods.

"You could always attack America."

Japan shakes his head. "I'm not like you Germany, I don't have the same hunger for revenge that you do."

I try to come up with something quickly.

"Don't think of it as revenge then," I say, scrambling for a reason. "Invade him to help us."

"How would attacking a battle-thirsty nation be beneficial to us?"

I force on a confident smile. "America is an idiot, he spends a lot of money on his battles without properly planning them. He is young and makes many mistakes."

Japan still looks skeptical.

"Trust me. If he's helping China, it's only a matter of time before they come for you and your people. By attacking first, you already have the upper hand."

Japan seems to be on the fence. _Now I've got him._

"Do it for your people Japan."

Japan exhales, "Okay, just tell me what I need to do."


	20. Chapter 20

"Ouch!" Italy shrieks, grabbing his foot.

"Shh!" I whisper.

Italy whimpers, but soon quiets.

While Japan went to bomb America's ships over at Pearl Harbor, Italy and I were in charge of capturing the American. Keeping America occupied would make it harder for him to defend himself from Japan's attack, plus it would definitely piss him off enough to join the war. I pick my way through the messy American's home, squinting through the dim light and attempting not to trip or stub my toe on something he'd left out. I hear another thump as Italy trips over a bowling ball. _Why does America even have that?_ I wonder. Italy sprawls across the floor. I shouldn't have brought him. I motion for the Italian to get up as we near America's bedroom.

"What now?" Italy whispers, his hot breath on my neck sending shivers down my spine.

I put my finger to my lips as I slowly open the door. I see America stretched out on his bed, snoring. I step into the room and tip toe to the American's bedside. I beckon for Italy to join me. Italy takes a few timid steps before placing his foot on a bag of chips. I wince at the loud crunch and pray America is a heavy sleeper. Unfortunately, he isn't. The snoring suddenly stop and the American's eyes begin to flutter open.

"Wha-?" He mumbles, rubbing his eyes.

I freeze, suddenly wishing I had actually thought this through. America fumbles for his glasses. My mind races trying to think of a plan.

"Germany?" America asks, sitting up in bed. "Italy?"

"This is all a dream." Italy says waving his fingers. "Oooh, you're sleeping."

The American looks skeptical. "Really?"

I decide Italy's plan is better than nothing. "Ja, a dream." I say. "Why else would we be in your house?"

"And why would I be shirtless?" Italy asks.

I turn to see that Italy has, in fact, removed his top. I mentally face palm.

America still doesn't look convinced.

I decide we were already in too deep. Following Italy's suit, I also remove my top.

"Would I ever, remove my clothing?" I say.

America snorts. "Nah, Germany's too much of a buzzkill."

America stands up and walks towards us.

I rush to think of something to get the American back to his bed and back to sleep. If he came to close or touched us, we'd be done for.

"But even with Germany being a total prude, he still would if it would benefit him in someway." America states, taking a step closer.

I panic and grab Italy and force his lips to mine. He seems shocked at first but then softens into the kiss. I look out of the corner of my eye and see America stop. I pull away, though I don't want to.

"Would real Germany ever do that?" I pant, scared that it wasn't enough.

"He'd send himself to his own camps before he'd ever kiss a boy." America says. "It must be a dream."

I try not to breathe a sigh of relief as America turns back around to return to his bed.

WACK! The American crumples and I turn to see Italy clutching a baseball bat.

"Let's go." He states, his face completely emotionless.

I pick up the knocked out county and grunt under his weight. Thank goodness for nation strength. I fling the American over my shoulder and follow Italy out to the car.

 

"What was that about?" Italy asks once America is safely stuffed in the back seat.

"What?" I say.

"You know the kiss thing, what was that about?" Italy says, furrowing his brow.

"We needed America to believe it was a dream, it worked, didn't it?" I state.

"Yeah, but-"

"Just drop it, okay? It doesn't matter."

"But-" Italy protests.

"Just. Drop. It." I hiss.

Italy mumbles something and turns his back on me clearly annoyed. What's up with him? It's not like it meant something to him.


	21. Chapter 21

Italy had gone from confused to irritated and angry by the time we reached the motel. Not the best place to drag an unconscious man into, but it would do. America was thankfully still out when I opened the car door. I slide my arms under the American and hoist him onto my shoulder. Walking towards the motel door, I can feel Italy's eyes burning holes in my back.

We walk in and hope no one is in the lobby. Apparently tonight was not our night.

"Um, what happened to your friend?" The manager asks from behind the motel desk.

"Late night drinking." Italy pipes up. "He doesn't seem to know when to stop. Passed out right in the bar."

The manager squints at us. "You're not from around here, are you?" He questions, noticing Italy's accent.

"Nope, just visiting a cousin." Italy says.

"All of you?"

"It's an odd family." I say and shove Italy to head to our room before he could ask any more questions.

Japan sat on one bed, reading a book when we entered the room.

"I see things went well." Japan says, noticing the slumped American.

"He won't be out for much longer, help me tie him up." I order, setting America in a chair.

We all grab some rope and bind the nation to his seat. Not even a moment after we finish, America starts to shift.

"Ow." He moans, blinking open his eyes. "Where am I?"

"Irrelevant." I state.

America rolls his eyes. "What is this Germany? Do we really need a repeat of me kicking your sorry ass?"

I slap the American's bruised head, causing him to wince. "Can't we spend some time with our favorite hero?" I mock.

"No autographs, please." He says, his voice just as mocking. "Seriously, what do you want?"

"Get comfy, you'll be here for awhile." Italy states.

America wiggles in his bonds and sighs. "Really? A motel and rope? These walls aren't soundproof you know."

He takes a deep breath as if he were to start yelling but before he can, Japan covers his nose and mouth with a cloth. The American's eyes roll back and he slumps once more.

"Keep an eye on him." Japan says, heading towards the door. "I'll be back in a day or two."

Italy and I are left alone with no one but a knocked out country to keep us company.

"Are you still mad about the...?" I mime kissing.

Italy glares at me.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Why, out of all things, did you do that?" He spits.

"Because it was out of character enough to get him to believe it was a dream! And it worked!" I say. "Why do you care?"

Italy shakes his head in disgust. "I'll watch America first, I'll wake you if anything happens."

I get up and grab a towel from the bathroom and tie it around the American's mouth,

forming a gag.

"There." I say. "That should keep him from screaming when he comes to. Wake me in an hour."

Italy gives a curt nod then turns away from me. I settle into the lumpy motel bed, wishing a certain Italian was cuddling with me rather than being angry at me.


	22. Chapter 22

_Creeeeeeek!_ I sit up straight in bed to see Italy fast asleep on the other bed and America beginning to tiptoe out of the motel door. The American notices I'm awake and bolts out of the room.

"Italy!" I shout as I leap out of bed and after the American. "America's loose!"

My feet slam on the floor as I tear down the hallway in pursuit of the other nation. I was gaining on him. _The fool probably hasn't exercised since the end of last war._ I smirk. America looks behind him and sees me, only a finger's length away from grabbing the end of his pajamas. I widen my stride and give a final leap and tackle him.

"OOF!" We both say together as I fall on top of the American.

I hear footsteps behind me and see Italy standing over us.

"Give me a hand." I tell the Italian.

America struggles as we tighten our grips on him.

"HELP!" He bellows.

I smack him over the head. "Quiet!" I hiss and start to drag him back to the room.

"Is everything alright?" An old lady asks, peering out of her room.

"Still drunk, the poor fool." Italy shouts over America's yelling. "Sorry for disturbing you, ma'am."

"Quite alright, dearie, just please keep it down." The old woman says.

"Will do." Italy tells her.

We drag our protesting 'drunk' friend back into the privacy of our room.

Once America is safely tied and gagged, I turn to Italy.

"Why didn't you wake me if you were feeling tired?" I can't help but shout.

"I'm sorry." he blubbers. "I just closed my eyes for a few minutes."

I run my fingers through my hair. "Wake me next time, okay? I don't know how much longer our luck will last with these people. We can't have them seeing this one escape. It could land us in more trouble than we need." I yell.

"I'm really sorry Germany." Italy sobs, tears rolling down his cheeks. "I didn't mean to fall asleep, it's just there's alot going on and-" He breaks off into another sob.

I soften at the sound of the Italian's cries. "It's alright," I say awkwardly patting his back. "Just don't let it happen again."

"Okay." He sniffs.

"Come here." I say, opening my arms.

Italy brightens and tackles me into a hug.

"Get a room!" America bellows.

I pull away from Italy and try to hide the growing blush. A knock on the door saves Italy and I from any questions. I open the door to reveal Japan.

"It's done." He says without any expression.

America cocks an eyebrow. "What? You all still haven't explained why I'm here."

I ignore the American and stride over to Japan and Italy. "What should we do with him?" I ask in a hushed voice.

"Leave him here. Knock him out and someone'll find him. By that time, we'll be gone." Japan says.

I nod and grab a beer bottle and crack it over America's head. He slumps in his chair once more.

"Come on." I say. "Let's go."


	23. Chapter 23

_America's POV_

I pace the length of the meeting room, waiting for the other allies to arrive. After I came to in the motel, I started to yell and had an old lady rap on my wall and tell me to stop drinking and go to bed. Eventually though, the manager came in, probably to kick me out, when

I was found, tied to chair. With my luck, he thought I was into some kinky shit and made the whole thing even more awkward. I shudder at the memory. After I was free, I learned about Japan's little "business trip" and I was pissed. I joined the allies and tried to shake off the feelings of déjà vu. The sound of England entering arguing with France over something stupid brings me back to the present.

"Baguettes are long pieces of bread, they are not even close to the perfection of a scone." The Brit insists.

"Your scones don't even qualify as food! They're rocks." France declares. "No, scratch that, that's an insult to rocks."

"Well I never-" England sputters.

"Dudes!" I cut in, before they can start at it again. "You made it."

"Of course we bloody made it." England huffs. "It's a meeting, it is a necessity."

I laugh to cover my embarrassment over pointing out the obvious. "So where's China and Russia?"

"Coming soon, I'd think." France says, checking his watch.

As if they'd heard him, China and Russia stride in. China nods in greeting while Russia runs over to give each of us a bone crushing hug. I am forced into the taller man's chest before I can escape.

"Good to see you, America." He says, squeezing tighter.

"And you." I reply through gritted teeth after he finally releases me.

The capitalist versus communist had caused some rocky waters between us.

"Are we going to start this meeting or not?" England asks impatiently.

"Right. So, dudes, how's the war going?"

They all nod their heads, though we all know that we'd never admit if the fight wasn't in favor of our side.

"Why'd you call us here, America? If you wanted to know how the war was going, you'd open up a newspaper, that is, if you even know how to read." China sneers.

I try to refrain from rolling my eyes. I don't know if it was because I was younger than many of the other nations or if they all deemed themselves superior, but it wasn't unusual for me to picked on.

"For your information, I can read, in fact, it came in very helpful when my country created fucking airplanes." I smile sweetly.

"One word American, gunpowder." China responds putting emphasis on each syllable.

Before I can name another of my nation's badass creations, England cuts in.

"Oh for heaven's sake, just tell us why the hell you called us here."

The memory suddenly floods back. I flash a bright smile.

"Dudes," I grin. "I know how to win this war."


	24. Chapter 24

_Germany's POV_

I rubbed my eyes and yawned. Prussia and I were just returning from a visit home. A visit filled with meetings about a war I no longer cared about, where leaders panicked about how we were losing the war, shocker! I was bored out of my mind and dealing with a brother who fidgets when he's bored kept me busy.

Anyway, I was glad to be back and away from all that. I also may or may not be looking forward to spending another night with a certain Italian, who I'd missed while I was away.

Prussia and I trudge up the Italy brothers' steps to the door. I knock and wait.

"You know," my brother says. "Even though it's not our house, it feels like home."

I nod. "Odd, when one would think that home could only be in one's own country."

We wait in silence a few minutes longer.

"Do you think they heard you knock?" Prussia asks.

I shrug and knock again.

We wait.

I check my watch, _what's taking them so long?_

"Maybe they're asleep?" The older nation suggests.

"At this hour?" I say, looking at the late afternoon sun.

Prussia shrugs. "Stranger things have happened. Let's just go inside."

"It's probably-"

My brother cleanly opens the door.

"-locked." I trail off.

 _That's odd_ , I think to myself, _both brothers are religious about locking their doors._

I step inside, feeling uneasy. Prussia and I walk through the breezeway and then discover why everything feels so wrong. The house is completely a mess. Not the normal untidiness, but a complete disaster. Chairs are tipped over, pillows are ripped with feathers everywhere. Fear makes my throat tight.

"What's this?" Prussia says picking up a piece of paper.

I rip it from him before he has the chance to read it.

_'I didn't really think it was a dream.'_

I can almost hear America's taunting voice in my head as I read it.

I crinkle the paper in my palm and throw it aside.

"What?" Prussia inquires about my reaction.

"Fucking Allies." I mutter as rage runs hot through my veins.

"Easy." My brother says, in an attempt to calm me down.

"Those fucking evil ALLIES!" I bellow.

 _They took my Italy. MY Italy_. I pace the room, seething.

"Whoa, West, calm down. Deep breath." Prussia says putting his hands up.

"DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE TELL ME TO CALM DOWN!" I screech.

Prussia flinches at my outburst. I want to hit something, I _need_ to hit something. I smash my fist into the wall, denting the plaster. Slight pain sparks my knuckles, I shake my hand.

I feel Prussia's warm hand against my back. I pant and draw in a shaky breath.

"They took him." I whisper, "they took Italy."


	25. Chapter 25

I break away from my brother and run to Italy's phone. The phone rings twice before I hear a person pick up.

"Where is he?" I fume.

"Not even a hello? Really Germany, I'm disappointed." I hear the American mock.

"Hello," I say sarcastically. "Now where the hell did you put my Italy."

" _Your_ Italy? I thought I'd have a little fun with your plaything." I can almost see the jeering smile of the American.

"Where. The. Hell. Is. He." I grit my teeth in frustration.

"Vacation." America yawns.

"Where?"

"I thought I was doing you a favor, the idiot is so irritating and you work so hard, I figured you could use the break."

"I hate you."

"Flattery gets you no where, sweetie."

"What do you want?" I sigh.

"Ah! Now there's the question I was looking for!" I can almost picture the American's smug smile.

"Then what the hell do you want?"

"You."

My blood turns to ice.

"Meet me at that little restaurant where you and your little boyfriend had your first date. Six o'clock. Sharp. Don't be late. And come alone."

I hear a click and silence.


	26. Chapter 26

"I have to go." I say shoving Prussia aside.

"Where?"

"Out."

"I'm coming with you." Prussia insists.

"No, stay here and see if Romano's anywhere around. I'm getting Italy."

"West....be careful." He says before pulling me into a hug.

I don't know if it was the fear of what was happening to Italy or if it was the fact that I knew I was walking into a trap, but I hugged my big brother back.

"I'll try." I say.

The drive seemed to take forever. Finally, I reached _La Campagna_ and it was just as beautiful as I remembered. I push open the door to see a familiar blond American calmly reading a menu. He sees me and stands, smiling.

"5:47, you have a thing for punctuality, I see." America grins. "Have a seat."

I sit.

America opens his menu once more. "Hmm, so many tasty treats, it's hard to choose. I hear the tiramisu is good though." He winks.

I clutch my hands tightly and try to refrain from punching that smug smirk off the other nation's face.

If America notices my agitation, he ignores it. "But there are so many options, it's so hard. What do you think?"

"Where is Italy?"

America frowns. "That's the problem with you Germans, too straight to the point." He looks me up and down. "But you seemed to have struggled with the 'straight' part."

I lurch out of my chair, ready to strangle the American, but large arms wrap around me before I can rip his gloating face off.

"You'll stay still now, da?" The owner of the arms says.

I glare but say nothing.

America grins. "Cooperate and you and your little boy toy go home, piece of cake."

"And if I don't?" I sneer.

"Wouldn't you like to know." America smirks. "Now, Russia."

I feel hard metal hit the back of my head before it all went black.


	27. Chapter 27

"Germany!"

I shoot up to find myself in a small cell.

"Italy?" I ask to the gloom.

"I'm over here!" His voice calls.

I swing my head around to see the Italian pressed against the bars. His hair is unkempt and the beginnings of a bruise circle his right eye. I stagger over.

"Are you okay?" I ask, taking Italy's hands from between the bars.

His eyes widen with fear. He shakes his head frantically. "I want to go home." Tears leak out of the corners of his eyes.

I try to embrace him but bars block my way.

"It's okay." I soothe. "I'm going to get us out of this."

He nods and tries to nuzzle into me. The loud creek of the door interrupts our moment. America strides in followed by the rest of the Allies.

"How was the nap, Germany?" The American sneers.

I roll my eyes. _Damnit, I was having a gay moment, you fool._

"Fine, though for an odd reason, I seem to have a headache. You wouldn't have anything to do with that?" I glare.

"No clue what you're talking about." America smiles.

"What do you want?" I ask.

"Nothing from you." America smirks. "Something from Italy."

Italy swallows in fear. "M-m-me?" He squeaks.

America taps his fingers against his chin. "Yes. I do believe you can help me prove something." He looks pointedly at me.

My blood turns to ice.

America strides to my cell. "Germany seems to already know what I want."

Italy blinks though his tears and seems to ask what was happening.

I grit my teeth. "Your fight is with me, not Italy."

America looks thoughtful. "True, but Italy makes this whole 'coming'.....oh what is it? Would you use 'coming clean' or 'coming out'?" America sneers.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

The American shrugs. "Okay. We have other ways." He strides into Italy's cage.

Italy backs into a corner, sobbing. "Please don't hurt me."

"Why would I hurt you?" America mockingly soothes.

Italy curls into a tight ball. America plants a swift kick to his side. Italy wails in pain. I throw

myself against the bars.

"Let me go." Italy pleads.

"That isn't up to me." America says, continuing to kick my Italy. "Germany gets to choose if this war really is important to him, more important than his love."

I freeze as I feel the other Allies' eyes on me.

"If its me you want, then take me you damn coward!" I shriek.

"I'm not the coward in this case, my friend." America leaves Italy sobbing in the corner to face me. "I'm not the one to afraid to answer the question."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Really? What about that night you kidnapped me?"

I gulp.

"I seem to remember you and Italy getting 'friendly' that night."

"Get to the bloody point, America." England says, irritated. "I have places to be."

"You and France can have fuck time later. I'm being a hero."

England flushes but stays quiet.

"Of course if you don't remember," America shrugs and turns back to Italy. "Maybe I can help jog your memory."

America prepares to kick.

"STOP!" I cry.

America pauses. "Yes?" He asks turning to face me.

"I remember." I mumble.

"What?"

"Damnit I said I remember!"

"Then share with the class what you and Italy did that night."

I take a deep breath.


	28. Chapter 28

_Prussia's POV_

"Romano!" I call to the eldest Italian.

I pick up an overturned chair. "Romano! You here?"

I hear a closet door creak open.

"Fucking bastards." I hear someone whisper.

I turn to the sound and walk over to a closet.

"You okay?" I ask as a pull the door open.

I see Romano, rocking with his knees to his chest, tears running down his cheeks.

"Do I fucking look okay?!" The Italian shrieks. "They took my BROTHER!"

"The Allies?"

"No, Santa Clause and his elves, of course the fucking ALLIES!"

I try to calm Romano down.

"Don't touch me." He glares.

"What happened?" I ask.

Romano wipes the tears from his eyes. "We came home from shopping for breakfast and they were here, waiting. They chased us through the house. I ran to the closet and as I turned to lock the door-" he stops. "-I watched them take him. I didn't do anything to help." Romano stares at the floor.

I wrap him in a hug, this time he doesn't protest.


	29. Chapter 29

_Germany's POV_

I look at the Allies' faces. All, except for America, hold a mixture of disgust and disbelief. The American grinned at me with that stupid shit eating smile. I felt ill. I could imagine dozens of places I'd rather be than this cell being gawked at as if I were a strange creature in a zoo. I look over at Italy to see how he's taking the news. The Italian's normally expressive face is blank and unreadable. I wish I knew what he's thinking. Finally England breaks the silence.

"So this was your grand plan?" He says to America.

America's smile falls from his face. "What?" He asks.

"So the German's gay for Italy. How exactly does that benefit us? Honestly, I half expected you to wheel out a new weapon that had the potential to destroy the world."

America rolls his eyes. "And I'm supposed to be the stupid one." He mutters. "Don't you get it? Hasn't Germany been making a few too many mistakes to want to win this war? Might want to lay off the tea Iggy, I think it's affecting your brain power."

I watch as the Brit sputters and try not to laugh.

China looks thoughtful. "The American does have a point, for once."

"Than-HEY!"

China ignores the outburst and turns to me. "Did your pride restrain you so much, you had to drag on a war rather than just surrendering?"

I winced at the words but said nothing.

"So this is some twisted white flag." England states. "You're trying to surrender now?"

I flick my eyes back to Italy but he still sits, unreadable. I close my eyes and slowly nod.

"Say it. Out loud." America demands.

I swallow. "Yes. I, Ludwig Beilschmidt, personification of the nation of Germany, surrender."


	30. CHapter 30

The Allies release soon after my surrender. The bastards got what they wanted, so Italy and I were set free.

"Italy?" I try to break through to my ally for the hundredth time, but his face stays as expressionless and still as a stone.

 _Please just say something._ I almost plead out loud.

Italy ignores me and continues to stare out the car window.

I sigh and turn my attention back to the road.

"You hate me now, don't you?" I mumble.

"No." Italy finally says.

"Then why won't you say anything?!" I shout.

"I-" the Italian starts.

"What?"

"I just need time to think."

We drive the rest of the way in silence.

We arrive back at the Italy brothers' house when Italy turns to me.

"None of this happened." He states.

"What?"

"All our brothers and Japan need to know is you've surrendered. That's it."

"I don't understand."

"Having the Allies know about your......problem, is bad enough, you don't need anyone else knowing." Italy turns on his heel, forces on his happy smile, and starts towards the door.

 _Problem_ echoes through my head.

"You-you don't accept me?"

Italy stops, his smile falling from his face.

"I never said that."

I step closer to the smaller country and place my hand on his back.

Italy turns to face me.

"You look so much like him." Tears fill his eyes and he brushes them aside.

"Who?"

Italy shakes his head and forces on one of his signature smiles. "No one."


	31. Authors Note/Update/Whatever This Is

So, I've not touched this story in quite some time, which I must apologize for. I could go on and on as to why I haven't updated in so long but who really cares about that? I mean, maybe you do, but trust me, it isn't anything terribly interesting, so if you do care just think I was in an intense battle with a shark or something.......If you didn't care then I just wasted more of your time and for that, I apologize again.

Anyway, to get to my actual point instead of rambling on for god knows how long, I rediscovered that I left this fic kinda hanging. I was so close to the ending and then ran off to battle my shark or whatever you decided I did in this time instead of finishing. 

I realize the Hetalia fandom is kinda dying, however, if people are still interested in this fic, I will actively work to finish it. How long that will actually take, I haven't the faintest idea. I could finish it in a week or a month, I really don't know. 

So comment, PM me, or scream outside your house you want me to update. Actually, don't do that last one, I probably won't hear it. I mean you still can if you want to, but it won't reach me so........yeah. You do you.

Oh! Also, I did write a few chapters for a 2p! Hetalia thing that I never posted and have no idea if I should, so if you're interested in that, also let me know and I can post that.

In short:

Do I finish this hot mess?

Do I post another 2p! hot mess?

 

Lemme know you nerds.

 

 


	32. Chapter 32

"We're back!" Italy sings as if we had only left for the store rather than gotten

kidnaped by the Allies.

Romano bursts out of the house and tackles his brother into a hug. His body shakes and I know he's crying.

"West!" Prussia wraps me into a hug of his own.

He pushes me away to inspect me at arm's length. "Did they hurt you? I'll kick some Ally ass if they did." Prussia punches a fist into his palm.

"I'm fine." I try putting on a weak smile. "But I don't think we'll be doing anymore Ally ass kicking."

Prussia's face falls and he looks over at the Italian brothers.

"Come," he ushers me into a separate room, "we'll let them have their moment and you can tell me what happened."

I look back at Italy, who is avoiding my eyes and directed all his attention to Romano. Prussia notices my gaze and sighs. He pulls me into the kitchen before speaking.

"You surrendered, didn't you?"

"How'd you guess?"

"I've been around a bit, I know when someone is no longer fighting to win."

We sit in quiet for a moment before he speaks again. "You did it for Italy."

It's not a question. Prussia speaks with a confidence that I couldn't lie my way out of. Instead, I just nod.

Prussia looks out into the living room where Italy is trying to soothe his sobbing brother.

"Why did you decide to fall in love with _him?"_

I shoot my head up and try to stop my heart from racing. "W-what?"

Prussia looks directly at me. "You heard me." He folds his arms. "We threw people like you into camps. So why'd you choose to lose a war for some guy?"

The disgust I faced from the Allies felt like only a nip compared to the venom behind my brother's words.

I let my head sink into my hands and grit my teeth. "I ask myself the same thing every day." I whisper.

Prussia deflates a bit at this reaction and rests his hand on my back.

"Does Italy know?"

I nod.

"How does he feel?"

I shrug.

"You know you two could never be together. Especially not you."

I pause.

"Germany?" It’s weird to hear my brother call me something other than "West."

I look at him.

"You do realize you have spent the last few years tossing away people for making the same choice you are."

I swallow hard.

"You can't. This isn't some romance novel where everything turns out all happily ever after. You made stupid choices and you better pray that the Allies are kinder to us now than they were for the last war."

With that Prussia, turns on his heel and leaves me alone to realize the severity of my decision.

 

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_Eyyyyy I 'm back! I will finish this damn fic, even if it kills me. On a similar topic, I struggled to stay historically accurate with an ending so I decided to pitch sticking to the books and give the story an ending that I'm happy with. It might have bits and pieces that might be similar, but for the most part, I'm focusing less on keeping it as accurate as possible and more on just writing. _

_I hope the long wait will be worth it and I'm sorry for my disappearance.  
_

 


	33. Chapter 32

Though Italy's behavior could be excused as Romano simply hovering around him so much that he was preoccupied, I could tell he was avoiding me. Even if he wasn't, Prussia also seemed to continually find a way to keep us apart. Finally though, our brothers were called away leaving Italy and I to have the house to ourselves.

Italy stretches and yawns as we watch Romano and Prussia leave.

"Well, I'm going to head to bed. Night Germany!" He smiles, pretending that everything is okay.

I grab him by the wrist. "We need to talk."

The Italian stops.

"I have nothing to say to you." He says it lightly but I can hear the faint venom beneath his soft tone.

"You've been avoiding me."

Italy pulls his wrist out of my grip and faces me. I am prepared to receive another tongue lashing but I look into his eyes only to find them wet with tears.

"I didn't want to." He whispers.

"Then why?"

He sighs and looks away.

"Italy?" I cup his face and turn it towards me.

Italy pushes me aside. "We can't do this."

"Why not?

"Do you realize what you've done in this war? Do you realize who you've done this stuff to?"

I stay quiet.

"You dragged on a war all because you loved-" Italy stops himself. "People died. Many people died and we could have surrendered."

I shake my head. "No one would understand."

This time, Italy's hand touches my face. "I would. I would've surrendered with you, Germany." He gives a weak smile. "That's the one thing I'm very good at."

"Do you love me then?"

Italy pulls his hand away from my cheek. "I don't know."

I sigh. "What _do_ you know?"

Italy is quiet for a minute before speaking. "I know the last time I felt like this, the person I cared about left me."

"I wouldn't-"

"I also know that neither of us are in the right place to be in a relationship like this." He motions to the two of us.

I want to protest but I know he's right.

"I think, for the time being, maybe we should just avoid each other."

My heart that was pounding so heavily in my chest stops.

"Wha-What are you saying?" I try to meet Italy's eyes.

He stares back, those pearls of amber which I loved getting lost in, blank and emotionless.

"We can't do anything reckless."

With that, the Italian turns on his heel, leaving me alone.

 

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

Who needs consistent update schedules when you have angst? Thank you all for your patience and I am doing my best to finish this fucker, when it'll actually be done though, lord fucking knows.

You can thank my girlfriend for inspiring me to write more.


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